“In any case, there is probably some mistake. ’ He frowned again. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters. " "May be," returned the man gravely. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. But there was a face pressed to the glass. She listened with dumb fear in her eyes. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. She would not be driven in by this persistent, sneaking aggression. ’ ‘Yes,’ she agreed, but her manner was a degree less warm.
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